


I'm Yours

by bah0rel



Series: I'm Yours [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Slash, We The Kings, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bah0rel/pseuds/bah0rel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac and Jehan had been waiting a year for this day, now it's here. The day of their wedding has finally arrived and they couldn't be happier. Enjolras/Grantaire towards the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Yours

It was a mid-April day when Courfeyrac and Jean Prouvaire married, their love for each other coursing through their veins. They had waited for this day for a year, the fifteenth of April the day Courfeyrac proposed exactly a year beforehand. The day Jehan threw himself at the other, kissing him passionately and whispering a small ‘yes’ between each kiss. The pair could not be more in love, they did not care if they did not marry for years on end or there on the spot, as long as they had each other, whatever happened did not faze them. Courfeyrac chose his best and oldest friend, Enjolras, to be his best man. Jehan chose Eponine to be his ‘best woman’, as he put it, she would accompany him down the aisle leading him towards his future. It took months of planning, the couple disagreed on where the wedding would be held, what beverages would be served, the meals, seating plans. The pair had considered eloping for a while, just running off to a small registry office to get married – what stopped them eloping was the thought of their friends and the wedding they had wanted as small children. The wedding crept upon them quickly; time flew by faster than Flash Gordon. 

Courfeyrac stood in Enjolras’ room, trying to tie his red tie. The boy was hopeless with tying ties, he could never be bothered to learn. His school tie remained in the same knot as it was in his first year of high school. The groom let out a frustrated groan, untying the tie and attempting to retie it again. “What’s the matter?” Enjolras asked his friend, walking back into the room as he folded down the pristine white collar of his shirt. “This stupid tie, I can’t tie it.” Courfeyrac groaned again, untying the red knot he’d made. “Come here.” Enjolras laughed softly, waving Courf towards him. Reluctantly, the groom walked over to his life-long friend. Enjolras started to tie Courfeyrac’s tie, talking the boy through it as he did so. “And that’s how you tie a tie!” He concluded, flattening it down. “Thanks,” Courfeyrac mumbled, checking it was perfect in the mirror. The best man held up Courfeyrac’s blazer as the boy slid his thin arms into the sleeves. The tall boy tried fixing his hair again, his wild dark curls refusing to stay in place. He sighed before looking at his watch; it was time to leave for the event. In just a few hours he would be married to the love of his life. 

Jehan paced his room, rubbing his hands together and taking several deep breaths, letting the air fill his lungs. Cosette and Eponine were running late, he couldn’t start on his hair without them, they had this plan for his plait that he had no say in. Cosette and Eponine bundled into the room, murmuring multiple apologies and taking out the multiple hair accessories for the groom. “You were late!” Jehan yelled, panic ringing out through his voice. “We’re sorry, Jehan, traffic got us!” Cosette apologised, leading the boy towards the chair in front of his mirror. “Now, sit.” She smiled. It took half an hour to get the boy’s hair sitting just right over his floral waistcoat. “It’s beautiful...” He smiled, looking up at the girls. His hair reached his shoulder in the plait, small roses dotted about the tail, a large white rose head clasped on the left side of his head. “We really must go.” Eponine warned, they didn’t want the groom to be too late. Jehan smiled sweetly, standing up and placing a soft kiss on each girl’s cheek. 

Courfeyrac stood at the top of the aisle, shaking nervously. The guests piled in, chatting animatedly between themselves. Enjolras stood next to his friend, patting his shoulder. “You’ll be okay, Courf, he’s not going to stand you up.” Enjolras smiled. The bright smile of the best man faded when he noticed Courfeyrac glaring at him. “Don’t even joke about that.” He snapped, nerves filling his being. Enjolras shook his head, a soft laugh escaping his plump lips. “He loves you, he wouldn’t stand you up.” Courfeyrac sighed, taking in deep breaths. He blocked out the murmurs of the guests, letting out a long breath. “He’s late.” Courf mumbled, looking at his watch. 

“We’re here.” Eponine smiled, unclipping her seatbelt and opening the door of the long black limo to exit. “You ready for the day that will change your life?” Jehan nodded, sliding out of the open door, taking in a deep breath. Cosette ran in to let the registrar know that the groom had arrived. She smiled, waiting on the boy to arrive outside the door of the function room. The opening ukulele of I’m Yours filled the room as everyone stood to look at the door. Jehan took a deep breath and linked his left arm with that of Eponine’s. “Ready?” She whispered again. He nodded, smiling softly. Cosette opened the door, holding it open for the pair to walk through and up the aisle. Jehan and Eponine walked up the aisle between the guests, Cosette following soot. 

Courfeyrac beamed at the young poet as he walked up the aisle slowly, within an hour the boys would be married. “Hello,” Courfeyrac smiled as Jehan stood facing the boy. “Hi,” replied the other softly. They held a long loving gaze into each other’s eyes before turning to face the registrar.  
“Dearly beloved,” The registrar smiled as she rattled through the ceremonial procedure. 

“And now I believe each have written their own vows.” She smiled, motioning towards Courfeyrac. The boy nodded, reaching into the inside pocket of his black blazer and pulling out a folded piece of paper. Jehan smiled sweetly as the other unfolded the parchment and clearing his throat to read:  
“Jehan, I have loved you from the day I laid eyes upon you. That was a funny day wasn’t it? I was drunk, completely wasted.” Jehan laughed softly, his big blue eyes lit up with glee. “It was Grantaire’s fault, he told me to go and talk to you and I ended up giving you a drunken lap dance. I don’t regret that night, not at all, I wouldn’t change it for the world.” He smiled, looking into the eyes of his lover. “I’m not great with putting things into words, not as great as you are my young poet, but know this; I love you so much that the thought of life without you makes me seize up and cry. I promise you that I will always be there for you, my little snowdrop.” He looked up at the poet and smiled softly at the tear that stained Jehan’s cheek. 

“Wow, Courf. “ Jehan whispered, clearing his own throat. “Here goes mine. You, Courfeyrac, are my one. The one my heart had searched for as I grew up, I couldn’t imagine life without my shining star. I promise to love and to protect you in any way I can, mon amour. I love you with every fibre of my being, you have become a part of me. Words cannot express how much I love you, to put it simply, I love you. Just you, the way you are.” Jehan smiled, another small tear trickling down his face. “To love another person is to see the face of God and by God, I love you, Courfeyrac.” He smiled, wiping away his tears. 

A few guests clapped, wiping the small tears that had slipped down their faces. Finishing the ceremony, the registrar concluded the ceremony with the typical “You may now kiss the groom.” The newly married couple leant forward and shared a chaste kiss, each smiling as the crowd stood clapping and cat calling. “J’taime.” Courfeyrac whispered to his husband, taking his hand and retreating out of the function room. 

“You looked stunning up there, mon enfant.” Jehan’s mother smiled, pulling her son into a tight hug. The poet held his mother back. “Thank you, maman.” He whispered, squeezing her tight. The elder woman let go, her hands staying on his shoulder’s as she looking into his blue eyes. “I love you, ma chérie.” She wiped a fresh tear from her eye. “I love you to, maman.” He smiled. The poet’s father stood next to his wife, looking at his eldest child. “Papa.” Jehan whispered, looking at the elder man. “Congratulations, Jean.” The man spoke sternly, having never approved of the boys sexuality he was reluctant to attend such an event. “Thank you, Papa.” The newly married boy whispered, looking down at his feet and admiring the sparkling shine of his shoes. Surprisingly, Monsieur Prouvaire took his son into a tight hug. “I am sorry, Jehan.” The boy’s father whispered, holding him tight. “I am proud of you, fils.” 

Meanwhile, Courfeyrac stood with Enjolras looking over at his husband and his parents. “I wish I had that.” Courfeyrac mumbled. “I wish my parents were here.” He took a deep breath in, it felt like the hundredth one that day. “They are here, Courf, in your heart.” Enjolras smiled, pushing his friend towards his husband and in-laws.  
Enjolras stood at the top table, with a glass raised in a toast to the newlywed couple. “Courfeyrac and Jehan, they deserve each other.” He started his best man speech, reminding Courfeyrac of the embarrassing moments he’d encountered in his short life. Thirty long minutes later, the newly married couple were in the middle of the dance floor, wrapped in each other’s embrace, slowly dancing to You and Only You and smiling. They danced slowly, everyone’s attention on them as they slowly danced around the small dance floor of the function room. As the song drew to an end Courfeyrac and Jehan shared a sweet kiss, pulling each other into a tight hug as the dance floor around them with the bodies of the guests, dancing around to the wedding party playlist. 

Courfeyrac and Jehan sat at the top table, talking mindlessly, laughing and sharing sweet kisses of love. Enjolras stood by the door, looking at the festivities and taking a swig of his glass of beer. He disliked seeing all the couples dancing together when he himself could not have the one he ached for. Grantaire was dancing with Eponine, laughing aloud to the fact that Jehan had been allowed to put ‘Come Down With Love’ by AllStar Weekend on the playlist. As the chorus started to ring out through the hall, Grantaire looked over to the figure standing over by the door. R let out a sigh, telling Eponine he needs to relieve his bladder. She laughed, pushing the boy away, knowing his true motive.  
Enjolras took a long gulp of his beer, gasping as the vile flavour travelled down his throat. “It takes a while to get used to it.” Grantaire smiled weakly as he approached the blond. Enjolras simply nodded in reply, looking at the couples dancing. “Not much of a talker at a wedding, are you?” Grantaire stated, scanning the crowd of guests. “I just don’t see the point of love, I couldn’t say anything in front of Courf or Jehan, they’re the exception I guess.” Enjolras confessed, examining the empty beer glass that held its place in his hand. Grantaire nodded, taking a swig of the hipflask he had hidden in his waistcoat. “Dance with me?” Grantaire asked, holding his hand out. Enjolras examined the cynic’s hand, unsure whether to let himself be whisked off to dance with the drunken cynic he called his friends. “One dance won’t hurt you, Enjolras.” Grantaire sighed, not dropping his hand. Reluctantly, the blond haired beauty took the other’s hand and walked out to the dance floor.

“Courf, look, Enjolras is actually dancing.” Jehan pointed out, laughing at the boy’s attempt at dancing. Courfeyrac looked over at his best friend, he laughed at the boy attempting the ‘robot’, Courfeyrac let tears of laughter escape his eyes. He’d always knew that the other couldn’t dance, it was a well known fact that Enjolras had never danced in his life, he didn’t enjoy the activity. “Oh my God.” Courf choked out through his laughter. Enjolras held his serious face on, trying to master the moves. There was no doubt the boy was drunk, Enjolras wouldn’t dance in front of people unless the poor boy was drunk. 

Grantaire was stood laughing at the other, Grantaire wasn’t a great dancer but he knew he was certainly better than what he was witnessing now. Enjolras stopped dancing and pouted at the laughing boy. “What?” He whined at the cynic. “You’re dancing.” The dark haired boy laughed, clapping. Enjolras, the offended drunk, walked off out of the crowd. Grantaire stopped laughing as soon as he realised the blond beauty wasn’t stood in front of him anymore. The boy decided to search through the crowd, looking for E’s blond mop. Enjolras took his place at the door again, looking out on the crowd. He sighed when he noticed Grantaire making his way over towards him, a sad look on his face. “What.” Enjolras mumbled, looking at his feet, the alcohol bringing out his inner child. “You’re dancing isn’t that bad, I’m just not used to it.” Grantaire smiled, offering the boy a drink of the hipflask that Grantaire cherished like one would cherish their holy book. Raising an eyebrow, E took a swig creasing his face in displeasure at the vile taste of the tonic he’d swallowed. The pair stood there in silence, looking out at the crowd, each taking a swig of the hipflask. Soon, the tension between them became too much for Grantaire to handle. The cynic turned and faced Enjolras, looking deep into his blue eyes, eye contact being held until R stood forward and leant in to kiss the blond. Enjolras, at first, stood there in shock but soon melted into the kiss. The two stood there kissing, smiling at each other’s contact. 

Courfeyrac and Jehan stumbled into their hotel room, giggling between kisses and discarding their clothes. “Today,” Jehan whispered, kissing the boy again. “Was amazing.” He whispered between kisses. Courfeyrac nodded in return, manoeuvring Jehan towards the large bed of the honeymoon suite. Half an hour later they lay tangled in each other’s arms, sweat dripping down their foreheads. “Well that was nice.” Jehan whispered, kissing Courfeyrac’s cheek. “It was.” Courf mumbled sleepily. Jehan smiled, cuddling more into his husbands side. “I see Enjolras and Grantaire managed to talk without it ending in a bitchfight.” The poet giggled softly. “Yeah, they did. Heck did you catch them making out then sneaking off together?”Courfeyrac smirked, running his arm down Jehan’s upper arm. “They what?!” Jehan squealed, sitting up and looking down at his newlywed husband. “They were making out.” Courf stated casually. Jehan’s face broke out into a smile, the boy had awaited the drunk cynic and the blond leader to get together for a long while and now that it had happened on the poet’s wedding day, he couldn’t be more excited. Courf just laughed, shaking his head softly. “Squeal in the morning, schleep now.” He grumbled, closing his eyes and letting sleep take him after a long day. 

“What does this mean for us?” Grantaire grumbled against the blond God’s bare chest. “I don’t know, Grantaire.” Enjolras whispered in reply, placing a soft kiss on the other’s cheek. Grantaire sighed, cuddling himself into Enjolras’ side. Enjolras instinctively wrapped an arm around the boy, sighing happily. “I could do this more often.” Enjolras smiled, looking down at Grantaire happily. Grantaire moaned happily in return, closing his eyes. “Will you be my Apollo?” The cynic mumbled against Enjolras’ chest. “Always.” The blond smiled in return, kissing his love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you all enjoyed it! It’s only a one-shot but if anyone wished I could turn it into drabbles? Idk, anyway review? 
> 
> It's actually my first Les Miserables fic, so I'm not all that great at writing in character towards them all. The fic is also on my fanfiction.net under the same name and the username of that account is "CaptainJackWatson-Holmes" 
> 
> Jemma x


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